


Play

by nhpw



Series: When In Rome [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Background Poly, Blow Jobs, Bottom Misha, Coming In Pants, Footsie, Frottage, Jus in Bello Convention, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, Roma | Rome, Semi-Public Sex, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s probably not necessary, but when Misha first feels the brush of another foot against his under the table at dinner, he raises two questioning eyebrows at Jensen and gives a slight tilt of his head in question. It would be just his luck to start playing back, only to learn it was Jared, fucking with him in public. But Jensen nods and narrows his eyes, and the foot strokes more purposefully from Misha’s right heel to just above his ankle. </p>
<p>(JIB 7 dinner on Saturday night.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2! I'm planning on at least one more... then we'll see how the inspiration flows after that.
> 
> All parts of the When In Rome series are stand-alone one-shots. They can be read separately and are in no particular order.
> 
> Written based on [this wonderful picture](https://twitter.com/mishacollins/status/734139320232235008) from the SPNFamily group dinner on Saturday night.

It’s probably not necessary, but when Misha first feels the brush of another foot against his under the table at dinner, he raises two questioning eyebrows at Jensen and gives a slight tilt of his head in question. It would be just his luck to start playing back, only to learn it was Jared, fucking with him in public. But Jensen nods and narrows his eyes, and the foot strokes more purposefully from Misha’s right heel to just above his ankle. The intent in his gaze sends a shiver up Misha’s spine just as much as the thrill of public touches, even slight and undercover as they are.

Misha squirms a bit in his seat and Jensen’s grin slides wider and more devious as he scoots his chair in and leans down so he can get his foot further up Misha’s calf, tracing the line as high as he can go with the toe of his shoe.

Misha clenches his jaw against a moan when the foot taps a sensitive spot, and Jensen gleefully smiles even wider as Misha bites his own lip against his will.

“Hey, everybody say hey!” Misha jolts bolt-upright and pulls his legs back from Jensen’s touch as Jared raises a camera and aims it to selfie the entire table, but no way is Misha composed enough for a decent snap.

He manages a tight-jawed glare at Jensen across the table, dagger eyes hitting the other man’s cheekbones as Jensen turns an open-mouthed smile toward the camera, and then curses himself because, yeah, the fans are definitely going to see that.

Jensen clears his throat as everyone returns their attention to the table, to conversation and to the nearly empty dinner plates in front of them. “You all right, Misha?” he asks, and he’s got a fake-concerned look on his face that makes Misha want to pin him up against the nearest wall and accost him in public, nevermind who might see.

He swallows that back and clears his throat instead before downing half a wine glass in one gulp and grinning closed-mouthed across the table. “Fine,” he says, a little higher than his standard speaking tone and with a barely perceptible shake of his head. “But I think I need to call it a night. I’m beat.” He stands without further ceremony and gives a broad wave and a sweeping blown kiss to their friends at the rest of the table. “Ciao bella!” he shouts in a briefly donned accent, and there are waves at his back as he departs in a hurry. Sure, they all  _ know _ , but he doesn’t need to hang around long enough for anyone to make jokes about the erection he knows he’s sporting.

He heads toward the restaurant lobby but ducks into a dark, secluded alcove to wait, and sure enough, it’s barely five minutes before he hears familiar footfalls and a low, telling whistle. He reaches out his left hand, catching Jensen off guard, and pulls him into the alcove, spinning him quickly up against the wall and pinning both of the other man’s hands above his head with his own. “ _ Tease _ ,” he hisses before crushing him with a kiss so hard it’s bound to leave bruises.

“I followed you, didn’t I?” Jensen returns gruffly when they part for breath. His hands are busy at Misha’s waist, crooking into belt loops on both sides and yanking him closer before initiating another kiss, just as bruising as the first. “It’s only a tease if I don’t intend to follow through.” With that, Jensen’s left hand goes further south and squeezes, hard and purposefully, at Misha’s groin. “Want you so bad.” Misha melts because Jensen’s worse off than he is - growling and grinding and needy, so Misha doesn’t fight it when he’s disarmed and spun around so that it’s  _ his _ back against the alcove wall now, one firm thigh grinding insistently between his legs, and harsh kisses being bitten into his mouth.

“You keep that up, there won’t be much left of me for anything,” Misha groans when the persistent mouth moves to his neck, sucking and licking and biting into a chosen spot that Jensen doesn’t seem in any hurry to relinquish.

Jensen just laughs darkly against the skin he’s marking and presses his thigh up and in with more intent. “When was the last time you came in your pants, Overlord Collins?”

Misha just shivers and casts his eyes to the ceiling as the press and placement of Jensen’s thigh becomes more precise and intentional and fuck,  _ fuck _ he’s not going to last. He lets out a groan and rolls his eyes back. A silent, “ _ Fuuuuck _ ,” breathes out of his lips of its own accord, and Jensen’s eyes are positively gleaming with pride as Misha tumbles over the edge and goes slack against the wall, held upright solely by the intimate press of Jensen’s body.

“Payback,” Misha mutters as he grasps for some mental ground to stand on, “Payback is a bitch, Jackles.”

“Don’t threaten me while you’re still a puddle.”

Misha just rolls his eyes and shakes his head before grabbing Jensen’s hand and yanking him out of the alcove and into a wide hall that swings them back into the public eye, and then Misha falls into step behind Jensen, looming entirely too close and putting an arm around his shoulders - in part to maintain contact and control of their direction, but mostly to cover the dark spot on the front of his trousers.

He leads an unprotesting Jensen into the first public restroom they cross and herds him into a stall, where he wastes no time getting to his knees and freeing Jensen’s hardness from its cloth prison. Jensen’s hand is at the back of his head, but Misha doesn’t need the encouragement - he’s snaking out his tongue to lick a stripe up the underside before taking his lover’s cock to the back of his throat in one smooth slide. 

Jensen’s moan rides in on a bout of open-mouthed laughter as he tightens his fingers in the hair at the back of Misha’s head. “Misha fucking Collins on his knees in a public restroom stall in Rome, and eagerly at that. What if--” He stops abruptly to hiss a breath as Misha pulls back to suck hard and swirl his tongue around the head-- “Ughhh… You fucker… what if... someone comes in?”

Misha mulls that for about the half-second of consideration it deserves before pulling off completely. “Guess you’ll just have to be quiet,” he says before diving back in for a devilish slide of his mouth up the length and back down again. “Besides. Not like you gave that any consideration when you were frotting me into the wall back there.” He casts a pointed look upward before doubling down on his efforts because Msha knows - and Misha knows that  _ Jensen _ fucking knows - that he has an amazingly talented mouth. He deepthroats with little effort and gives a hum for vibration, and then works his throat and tongue in concert.

Jensen’s fingers tighten further and he’s tensing and drawing up, and Misha doesn’t let up - there’s a panicked, “ _ Fuck, Mish, fuck I gotta go I gotta-- _ ” but Misha just works right through it, swallowing Jensen’s release and playing his tongue over the too-sensitive shaft until Jensen’s whining and trying to buck away, and then he lets up, stands up, and tucks Jensen back into his pants, giving the gift-wrapped package a pat of satisfaction.

Jensen, when he finds his wits, meets Misha smile for smile and reaches tender fingers out to stroke along the right side of his lover’s head, over his ear. Misha leans into the affection and moves forward for a kiss - softer, sweeter, less urgent than before, and rolling into a lazy makeout session. “We’re making out in a public restroom in Rome,” Jensen says quietly into the space between their lips.

“Hmmm… mmhmmm.” Another kiss, tender and slow.

“What if someone comes in?”

Misha just sighs at that, and presses his forehead to his lover’s. “Let them.”

It seems to satisfy the younger man, and it satisfies Misha just fine. He returns his mind and his thoughts to the kiss. He puts his arms around Jensen and holds him tenderly. Like a lover.

Like he should. Like he should be able to, everywhere, always, and that makes him a little sad. Maybe someday.

But for now? For right now, they’re sated and happy and they’re making out. It doesn’t matter where. It doesn’t matter why.

_ Let them _ .

Someday, Love. Someday.


End file.
